


Spill

by ramune03



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-02-28 09:42:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18753862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ramune03/pseuds/ramune03
Summary: sometimes things just don't work out the way that we want them to.posting an old thing to get this account started ayo.





	Spill

Bokuto has moments where things tumble out of his mouth and he can feel himself trying to claw them back. Trying to stuff them back down his throat, tucking them up under his ribs. They fall out of his mouth like marbles. They hit the ground and bounce, skittering along the floor and he watches them. Opens his mouth to take it all back but the only thing that comes out is more and more and more.

Too much information.

Too many explanations.

He told Kuroo once that it was like filling a bathtub and suddenly the handle breaks. There’s no possible way to keep the water down but he tries. Fuck does he try.

“I love you, Akaashi.”

The reaction is not the one that he wants. Not even the one he expected. Akaashi is rigid suddenly. His eyes are wide and he’s looking at Bokuto like he has no idea who he is. Oh no, Bokuto thinks. The water is up at the lip of the tub now and he’s shaking in his seat. He’s looking at Akaashi and scrambling for some way to make this fine. Make this okay.

“It’s just! You get me, ya know? You’re really smart and you’re patient and you can be funny sometimes– I just– I love you!”

The water slips over the lip of the tub and he hears it splash to the bathroom floor. He’s skittering backwards, afraid of what he’s saying because it’s too honest and Akaashi hasn’t even moved from where he’s sitting. If anything, the only thing Bokuto notices is the fact that he’s holding the glass of water he ordered that much tighter. Akaashi wets his lips and Bokuto freezes, head ducking. The creak of the booth under him makes him look away. Akaashi’s mouth is opening and he doesn’t have to look at him to understand what’s about to tumble out of it.

Unlike Bokuto, Akaashi’s never been the type to say something too quickly. He deliberates and he weighs the pros and cons of everything. There’s no tub for Akaashi. No broken handle. No overflowing.

The water touches his toes and he has to cover his mouth because the water is cold. Not as warm as he thought it’d be.

“I see.”

He’s soaking in it now, accepting that this is how it is. This is what’s happening. The water is cold and it laps at his chest, makes him twitch in his seat. Suddenly antsy. His leg jiggles, knee bumping up against the underside of the table. Akaashi glances down so sharply and it stops.

“You’re sure of that?”

Up to his throat now, it licks at the bob in it; making every word he wants to say much harder than it’s supposed to be.

He knows what Akaashi is trying to imply with the question.

Bokuto feels his skin prune up and he rubs his fingers against his palms, taps his nail against the table as he thinks of how to respond to that. It’s logical. For Akaashi it’s logical to question it. It’s only fair to see if what Bokuto thinks is honest and not something that he thinks now and won’t think about at all later. Akaashi’s head tips and he’s looking at Bokuto in the way that he looks at someone on the other side of the net.

Analytical and cold. Bokuto no longer feels like Bokuto but rather like a specimen under a microscope. He feels spliced open and bared– raw. Feels like everything he’s thinking is out on display. 

Water making his clothes heavy. Water clumping Akaashi’s eyelashes together, water airing out Akaashi’s nose.

Bokuto stares.

When did Akaashi get wet?

“Y– Well, yeah, of course,” Bokuto says. “I’m positive!”

It occurs to him then that by saying this– letting it loose into the world– letting the marbles tink and clatter against the tile– he’s inadvertently yanked Akaashi down and into this. He can see him, tossed in with no warning and unsure of what to do other than keep his head up and struggle to find a way out. Bokuto can’t offer any help. He can’t feel the bathroom floor anymore and, honestly, maybe he’s hoping to drown.

He’s said too much.

Akaashi’s hand finds his in the water and suddenly everything is warm. Everything is soft and breathing is suddenly easier. His hand is heavy on his shoulder and the bustle of the restaurant is what brings him back. Grounds him in the squashy plush of the booth.

“I believe you,” Akaashi says. And his hand is trailing away now, curling back around his glass. “I don’t think you’d say something like that if you didn’t mean it, Bokuto-san.”

“You don’t feel that way, huh?”

Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no–

“I don’t. I’m– I’m sorry.”

He’s tired of being careful now. Tired of scrambling for things to push himself up on to keep his head up. Akaashi’s hand is no longer there and there is nothing warm about this. Nothing soft. The water is above his nose and his hand is on the ceiling. No place to go. No way out. He’s said too much. He’s said too much. He’s said too much.

“It’s okay! I figured. Love’s a big thing, yeah?”

Should’ve never said it. Should’ve been quiet. Should’ve just let it go.

Akaashi tucks his hair behind his ear and Bokuto watches the way his fingers curl to do it. He wants to feel them on his face, wants to know what it’s like to have Akaashi’s fingers in his hair. Wants to know what it’s like to be under Akaashi’s skin in the good way. (What does that mean? he asks himself. ) Akaashi catches him looking and there’s this expression that screams apologetic, sympathetic. Bokuto looks away and inhales.

His lungs are full of water.

“Bokuto-sa–”

“It’s really okay, you don’t have to say anything!” Bokuto says. His voice is level and he’s smiling. His fingers drum on the table and suddenly good, spending time here– it’s not something he wants to do. Understandable, he tells himself. It’s only understandable.

Akaashi rubs the back of his neck and Bokuto lets his expression fall. He feels them again. The marbles. They roll up his throat, clatter against the backs of his teeth and before he knows it he’s opening it up. Watching them tumble out onto the table. He feels himself scramble to scoop them back up–

“I just wanted to let you know so you… well, so you knew. You were bound to find out eventually, right? I’m really obvious, Kuroo says! So it’s only fair that you found out right from me instead of finding out yourself. Haha!”

He closes his eyes and flinches from that laugh. So fake. So laced with sugar that he feels his teeth hurt. The marbles clatter to the floor and he no longer worries about where they go. He’s tired.

“Anyway, that’s all I asked you here for,” he finishes.

Akaashi nods his head and says nothing. It’s quiet for a long time.

Bokuto wishes he could wash his mouth out with soap.


End file.
